


to make it in a place like this you're gonna need a person like me

by Dragunov



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Ficlet, M/M, school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:23:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragunov/pseuds/Dragunov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The headmaster tells Sir Augustus in a confidential paper that it is simply a schoolboy crush, and will surely pass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to make it in a place like this you're gonna need a person like me

He was never bullied.

He killed Carl for laughing at him because he was insane. A little laughter was all it took. A little laughter to suggest that little Moriarty isn’t as powerful as he thinks, and he settles that score, in a pool lane. He was always meticulous - no one suspected, no one but Sherlock - yet as he ages he still learns; to hold it better, to steady his fingers when they shake for blood at the slightest. Once upon a time his whole body twitched violently. He learns to tell himself “no, this one is not worth it, at least, _not now._ ” And he takes his own hands out of the equation because without that variable there isn’t the temptation - he tells himself.

He beats Moran bloody behind the closed door of their dormitory and Moran fights back but accepts it, because Moran is his hands, as disobedient as they are loyal. They are loud, but the other boys don’t dare. Then, when they are bloody and bruised and the fingernail gashes on their backs stick wet to the sheets Moran brings him off with a few unforgiving strokes and they are not friends, lovers, enemies, they are each other’s sin and God could take that away at any moment, 

so why wait.

A private school, a correctional facility for troubled youth with titles and rich parents, families that have summer homes, winter homes, broken homes for all the seasons of a year. Moran makes sense here, expelled from Eton for fighting with princes, for fighting dirty, like a noble blooded tiger in the gutters, but no one knows about Moriarty, who says his mother was Lady Onherback, with a cold laugh that makes the boys feel unsure, and he can’t be mocked for what he cares less about, so they leave him alone. Moran fractures a boy’s knee at the first mention of Sir Augustus and Sir Augustus is nothing at this school; where Moran reigns like a barbarian king. Athletic star. Bully.

The boys cower from his physical power and benefit from it - for a price. That Moran is king makes sense, is economically simple, but no one knows about Moriarty, who fingers Moran from the start like a fine tuned instrument. Who is silent and still when the on-staff nurse practitioner injects a clear liquid at the crook of his arm, who is like a feral child when he flushes his medication down the toilet. He is short and skinny and specter white and he spreads his hands across Sebastian’s shoulders with wired swagger.

Moriarty whispers a false rumor that ends with thick blood gushing from Moran’s mouth, a tooth missing, and Moran growls, “you, oh now I really hate you,” gripping Jim by his sweater vest and shoving him against a wall, and the next day Moran slams a boy’s head against his desk for calling Jim a perverted freak, and their relationship is a proportion the rest of the school struggles to understand, never will.

Moran is at the top of the food chain but Moriarty is there, between the stripes, ravenous.

Jim throws Sebastian to the floor, and Sebastian’s skin rubs raw against the carpet, and Jim is silhouetted in the dim light of the shadowed dorm, standing above him, hissing, “What would you be without me? Collecting milk money? Stealing fags? Your life would be so fucking pathetic, so boring, if you didn’t have daddy to play fetch with-” He hooks Jim’s heel with a foot and Jim crashes against a dresser, and he’s unconscious so long Sebastian ties his hands to the bed frame, stuffs his mouth with a sock, strips off his trousers, slaps his face a few times, takes the sock out, feels a twinge of true terror, and then Moriarty’s eyelids flutter, his pupils uneven, and he looks past Sebastian and he laughs.

Sebastian fucks him so hard Jim’s voice is faint the morning after. And Sebastian comes back from the cafeteria to find Jim sleeping through breakfast, and he’s tossing an apple from hand to hand when Snow White wakes, and he sets the apple on Jim’s nightstand, says, “Condescending little shit. Class starts in ten.”

The headmaster tells Sir Augustus in a confidential paper that it is simply a schoolboy crush,

and will surely pass.


End file.
